


Need

by GrumpyJenn



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the Doctor is the one who's sick?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesesongsaretrue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesesongsaretrue/gifts), [SnowyAshes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyAshes/gifts), [areyoumarriedriver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoumarriedriver/gifts).



_They needed him_. He tried to get up, but he... he couldn’t seem to move at all. Odd, that. Odd like the Ood. Odd odd Ood, singing his song. Song? Where was his song?

He remembered things he hadn’t seen or heard, but things she - they... no, _she_ \- helped him remember. Like Jack (silly sexy Jack, why hadn’t he snogged Jack more often?) saying, “Why does he need you?”

“Because he’s lonely.”

Martha was right, he _knew_ she was. But he didn’t _feel_ it. He didn’t need people, he was the one _they_ needed. He himself told others that about every other week (except on Thursday afternoons. Boring Thursday afternoons). That’s the way it worked.

“Sometimes you need someone to stop you.”

Well, yes, Donna had been right too, but that was a different kind of need, really, that kind was to keep him from hurting other people, the people who needed _him_ , and even then it didn’t always work. He’d killed his people along with _them_ , trapped them for eternity in a bubble of Time, but they’d been wrong. The wrong song. Song... song... where was his song? He could smell his song but he couldn’t hear her and he nee... he _wanted_ his song, please...

“All we need is the Doctor.”

Harriet Jones (former Prime Minister) was right, you see, they needed him. _They_ needed _him_ , those hapless humans of Earth. _Hapless humans of Earth_. He liked the way that sounded in his head. Hapless-humans-of-Earth in a sing-song song...

_Song._

Where was she? His song... where had she gone, his River Song? _Gone-Song, gone song_... He didn’t like that one as much, it didn’t rhyme properly. Not in English. But he needed... no, he _didn’t_ need, that was for _them_ , they needed... he _wanted_ his song back, his melodysong riverpond. River? _River?_

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

“My God, River, what happened to him?” It was Amy, her accent thick with concern, and Rory was with her, doing what Rory did, taking in what was going on, watching, observing, planning what to do when needed. He rummaged in the extensive first aid kit he had brought from home while he waited to hear River’s reply.

“I don’t _know_ , Amy!” River’s voice was tense, with tears behind it, and Rory gave her a sharp look, but then she went on a little more calmly, “She just showed up at Stormcage and opened my cell door, and when I went to see where he was, I found him collapsed on the floor of the console room. His temperature is nearly human normal,” she said, turning to Rory, “and I think he’s delirious with fever. I didn’t know what to do, it’s not like there are Time Lord hospitals, and I... I...” she shuddered and put her hands over her face, trying not to break down completely. Amy took her arm and tried to lead her to the sofa on the other side of the medical bay, but River resisted. “No... no, I need to be with him... he keeps asking for me, _please_ Amy, please don’t make me leave.” She looked utterly woebegone and Amy relented, patting her hand and drawing a chair up to the single bed where the Doctor lay, muttering restlessly in his sleep.

“Can’t hear the song, _my_ song, my melody is gone, she’s gone...”

“No, my love, I’m here,” River choked out the words, sitting in the chair and taking his hand in both of hers, “ _please_ , Sweetie, I’m here, your Melody, your Song,” and she gasped as he finally opened his eyes. He stared blankly through her, obviously not seeing her, and convulsed once, violently, then dropped into unconsciousness.

 _(No!)_ It was a mental shout from the TARDIS that even Amy and Rory heard, and River’s hands moved of their own accord from his hand up and into his hair, and then the three of them - the TARDIS and her child and her Time Lord - were thrown together into a tight embrace within their minds.

_my song... where?_

_I’m here, my love, I’m here..._

_(come back to us)_

_I’m here, Sweetie, your song..._

_Want - NEED - my song, please..._

...and they were thrown out of rapport and Rory caught River as she collapsed in a heap by the now-double bed where her husband lay.

Rory and Amy lifted their daughter onto the bed next to the Doctor. River was awake but only barely, and the last time they had seen her this way was when she’d just given up all of her regenerations for him, so Amy was fretting aloud, her accent getting thicker and thicker with each word. Rory had his hands full checking on the Doctor, settling River into bed, and reassuring his wife, but finally, _finally_ , the Ponds left the medical bay and River and her Doctor slept.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/- 

He was wet. Wet and cold, and so, _so_ very tired. He hadn’t been this tired since his last regeneration, and... _oh no!_ He tried to sit up but he was weak, and pinned by a soft weight along one side of his chest, and his nose itched as though something was tickling it and... and... and he went back to sleep.

River woke as his hearts sped up momentarily, then settled back into a slower pattern of th-thump th-thump, th-thump th-thump. She felt his forehead where Rory had used the old-fashioned expedient of a wet towel full of ice to bring down his fever - none of them knew what drugs if any were safe for him - and was relieved to find that this old remedy appeared to have worked; his fever was broken and his pulses and breathing were normal for him. So she lay down beside him, nestling her head onto his chest where she could listen to his heartbeats again... and she went back to sleep.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/- 

The next time she woke, it was because the Doctor was stroking her hair away from where it was tickling his nose. “Hello, Sweetie,” she said, smiling at him, and then she burst into tears, burrowing her face into his neck and sobbing silently.

“Oh now, River, no... no, River, please don’t cry...” His voice was hoarse and his hands were flailing in the air over her back ineffectually. They finally found their way back into her hair and he carefully rubbed the back of her neck and her shoulders until her sobs subsided and she sighed into the crook between his neck and shoulder. “Come on up here and look at me,” he murmured, tugging gently, and she did. He turned on his side to give her more room, and they lay together, face to face as he stroked her hair. He sighed. “Oh, my River, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t realised... I...” He trailed off.

“Realised what, Sweetie?”

He ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. “How much I need you,” he whispered. “Sexy couldn’t have done it - brought me out of that - without you.”

“There’s no shame in needing me, my love,” she murmured, and kissed him.

He returned the kiss, trying to _show_ her how much he needed her. “I didn’t think,” he said haltingly, between kisses, “that I needed anyone. But I do. _So much_.” And it was his turn to cry into her hair as she held him, because that’s what they needed.

 

Each other.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: I started this fic whilst on strong narcotic painkillers. There was only so much I could do to tidy it up after they wore off....

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [So next time I can save your day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/401211) by [Amie33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amie33/pseuds/Amie33)




End file.
